Devil Beside Me
by remains
Summary: Will has to come to terms with his feelings towards Hannibal when he finds out the truth. It's a long hard road out of hell. Hannigram, murderhusbands, dark!Will, smut
1. Searching for a Former Clarity

**Notes**_: This is a Hannigram fic that is relatively canon to the show. It begins just after Will takes Abigail back to the kill shed and loses time._

**Disclaimer**_: Not all chapters will contain violence, sex or manipulation, but I'm sure many will. Consider this a warning for all triggers as I will not be separately tagging chapters. I don't plan on trying to traumatize anyone, but I don't want to stifle my creativity. _:P

Searching For A Form Clarity

Hannibal pulled what was left of Abigail out of her oven and began carving the meat before Will woke up. The blood on the floor hadn't been cleaned up but was beginning to dry. Hannibal carefully avoided getting his shoes in the small puddle but gracefully moving around to lean over Will and serve his plate. After the food was set on the small table Hannibal noticed Will's curls tangled around his head. Impulsively Hannibal began to fix them, combing his fingers through his hair. Satisfied, Hannibal gave Will a small smile and sat down waiting for him to wake up on his own. Hannibal rose as Will's slumped figure began to stir. Will's eyes fluttered open and Hannibal's hands steadied his head.

"How are you feeling Will?" Hannibal asked in his usual demeanor.

"Where am I?" He asked with sleep in his voice.

"Abigail's house," Hannibal said sitting back down. Will began to look around.

"Where is she?" he asked scanning the kitchen. He recognized that near Hannibal was the corner in which Garret Jacob Hobbs had died.

"Do you remember what she told you a few hours ago, in the work shed?" Hannibal asked pouring the red wine.

"S…she killed those girls. She was the bait, the lure…" Will said slowly shaking his head. "I imagined I killed her."

"Were you angry with her?"

"I felt sick."

"She was surviving. Her father would've killed her," Hannibal said swirling his glass of wine.

"Hannibal, you knew," Will said closing his eyes and swallowing.

"I tried to protect her," Hannibal said. Will took a deep breath.

"What did you do?" Will asked becoming more conscious. His food came into focus. The atmosphere was different than Hannibal's dinning room, but he felt as if he was there just by looking at the plate. The food was delicately arranged and Hannibal had taken décor from around the house to set the table. He had an exquisite taste for aesthetics.

"Only what I could do. It seems Abigail could not escape her fate," Hannibal said taking a bite of something off his plate.

"H…Hannibal…" Will said with shaky breath. He knew what the food was. He imagined Abigail's body hidden somewhere dark, parts of her missing, sliced off for this meal.

"Our Abigail was going to get herself caught. Jack knew and Abigail was ready to open up to Freddie Lounds," Hannibal said cutting his food.

"I've been…" Will said closing his eyes. The man he had made this friendship with, this something _else_ he had felt for Hannibal… it stuck in his mouth all sticky with betrayal.

"I could only protect her for so long," Hannibal said. "Now all we can do is honor her."

Will almost choked on the little spit there was in his dry throat. Tears began to cloud his vision fiercely but he had to get up. Will scooted back his chair violently to get away from the table. The wine knocked over and started to spill, dripping right next to the blood while his plate toppled and crashed on the floor. Hannibal stared at it thinking about Mischa briefly and watched as Will stood up. He held his hand out to the wall but his sweaty palm had him slipping.

"Don't, Will you are making a mess," Hannibal said coming to Will to help him away from the wall. As he approached, Will felt fear swell in his chest and reached for the gun that was no longer at his hip. Hannibal put his hand on Will's and reached for his other arm. Will pulled away and started screaming at Hannibal for what he had done.

"Why are you doing this?! How can you be the- you were my friend, you- all the time we were talking and I let myself actually _feel_ for you," he pushed Hannibal into the blood and his shoes glistened in it.

Hannibal felt something hot boiling in him. This was not anybody and this somebody had made a mess of his food. He stepped forward again as Will dragged himself around the table, hanging on to the chairs and knocking them down with his drugged weight. Hannibal came after him and maneuvered chairs blocking his path. Quickly Hannibal stopped Will from making it full circle around the table. He grabbed Will's wrists as Will pushed with all his might making Hannibal take a step back, but he did not let go.

"I am still your friend, those feelings haven't changed," Hannibal said trying to reason with Will.

"She didn't have to die, you didn't have to kill her," Will yelled. His glasses had fallen off his face and lay broken on the floor.

Hannibal forcefully walked Will away from the blood and towards the cabinets. He pinned Will's wrists over his head and got inches from his face. He stared into the watering eyes and used all his power to keep Will still. He breathed calmly waiting for Will to hold still on his own.

"I did," Hannibal said. "And now she is sitting in her own blood over there because you refuse to understand yourself."

"_Myself_?" Will spat indigently. He kept trying to slide down out of Hannibal's grasp. 

"Yes," Hannibal said pulling Will back up by his wrists and pushing harder against the cabinet.

"What have you been doing to me?" Will asked, his insides turning.

"I've been helping you realize yourself though you slither away from it like a blind snake," Hannibal said, his hair hung over his forehead, just in front of his maroon eyes.

"You've been confusing me. I trusted you," Will screwed up his face in emotional pain. His heart felt like it was beating against a current.

"You can still trust me," Hannibal said. "Please eat."

"How?" Will asked. He had stopped moving.

"No differently than you did before."

Will wanted to vomit but resisted the urge.

"You are _sick_. I do not empathize with _you_," Will said gritting his teeth.

"No? But you do. You understand something about me that scares you. You don't have to be afraid. It's ugly to lie, Will," Hannibal said. He lowered Will's hands but kept a firm grip on both wrists.

"I can't eat Abigail," Will said definitively.

"You will let her go to waste?" Hannibal asked staring into Will's chestnut eyes.

"She was trying to get away from all of this," Will said feeling Hannibal's hands never loosen.

"She was _all this_," Hannibal said rubbing his thumbs on the inside of Will's wrists. "And it was okay. She was never going to live a normal life. Instead I helped her how I could, but in the end she did this to herself."

"In your mind you saw no other way," Will said shifting uncomfortably.

"And how different is my mind than yours?" Hannibal asked.

"Unspeakably so," Will said deadpan. Hannibal became still and he stared at Will's face. He let go of Will slowly and he did not move. Carefully Hannibal backed away from Will and began to pick up the broken plate scattered across the floor.

Will felt hot shame in his face. His mind began to piece together what Abigail's alternatives would've been. Prison for one, Freddie Lounds spreading slander, not a single boyfriend or girlfriend, ultimately trapped in her mind. If she got out of prison she would not have a single friend. She would have Will and a miserable life.

Will fought with himself over the idea of eating Abigail. On one hand, in the totally conscious side he knew it was absolutely vile, something that would change him forever. But on the other hand he was already changed, Hannibal had changed him. For worse maybe, but he was who he was. Hannibal was his friend, more than a friend he felt something that bordered beyond infatuation. His alternatives were few, Hannibal was capable of true horror and Will didn't want to experience that. In fact he was drawn more towards the idea of making Hannibal happy with him ignoring the personal consequences. Who Hannibal really was, was up for debate at the moment. But the person that Will had thought he had known related to him; there was an undeniable connection they had shared through their conversations.

He felt broken inside, and felt maybe eating her would fill in the missing pieces. The last thing he said to Hannibal had only been in defense of himself, but it was not the truth. Hannibal had entered into him and wasn't leaving. His thoughts and actions made rational sense in Will's mind and he coiled around them instead of being repulsed. His empathy and his instincts became one, his moral code another. The law and what was supposed to be right and wrong were clear in his head, but it didn't matter. This was his world with Hannibal now.

Hannibal swept up the pieces and put a towel down over the blood. His suit was ruined, Will's clothes would have to be burned as well.

"How many of your victims have I eaten?" Will asked watching the blue cloth grow darker.

"I stopped counting," Hannibal said.

"Can this be the last?" Will asked.

"For you," Hannibal smiled. Together they picked up the chairs and straightened out the table. Hannibal served Will a new plate with a fresh glass of wine. Will sat looking at his plate, his eyes squinting at the meat. He cut a piece and carefully scooped it onto his fork mimicking Hannibal. He hesitated and saw Hannibal sneaking a look under his lowered lids. The fork hovered in the air and a pang of love tugged at Will. It was love for Abigail and what she suffered for, but also love for Hannibal and whatever had driven him to this. He put Abigail into his mouth. Hannibal smiled and his maroon eyes were ignited by the sunset. It was a fitting memorial service that no one else could've provided.

After a few bites had silently passed, Hannibal spoke.

"I am proud of you, Will."

"Are you patronizing me?" Will asked sipping his wine.

"I don't mean to be. It just pleases me," Hannibal said.

"I just want it to be over," Will said.

"I suppose you'll stop investigating me now?"

"I'll go back to strictly lecturing," Will said giving Hannibal a sleepy smile.

'What will Jack do?" Hannibal asked.

"He has more important things in his life to deal with, Bella is dying," Will said.

"Do you think he'll let you go so easily?" Hannibal asked.

"No. I'll convince him. He tried to make me go once before, I'll just let him know he broke his fine China. Though you could me help too," Will said.

"That could be arranged… temporarily," Hannibal said finishing his plate.

"Conditions?" Will asked drinking more wine.

"I have options?" Hannibal asked, his eyebrow raised.

"You have power," Will said lowering his glass.

"As long as my hobby is not being threatened I'll take a hiatus," Hannibal said. Will looked surprised.

'I don't like to make promises I cannot keep, so I will tell you this; if I want to, if my pros outweigh my cons, I'll do it," Hannibal said now drinking his wine. Both of their lips were starting to stain red.

"You're telling me you won't stop," Will said.

"I don't like to deny myself of much," Hannibal said.

"Why tell me you'll attempt a hiatus if you have no intention of doing so?" Will asked.

"I am torn between myself and pleasing you," Hannibal said.

"What a struggle that must be for someone like you," Will said.

"You should be grateful I-"

"Haven't killed me?" 

"No, that I want you," Hannibal said, irritated that Will interrupted him.

"You should be grateful I like you," Will said.

"'Like'? You _are_ trying me," Hannibal said standing up to collect Will's plate. With both dishes stacked neatly on top of each other in one hand, Hannibal leaned down to Will's ear. His lips brushed the fine hairs on Will's earlobe and he inhaled deeply through his nose. Pulling away only a fraction, he licked his lips. Nonchalantly he straightened up and began washing the dishes over at the sink. Will's flesh held goosebumps, his heart sank to the middle of his chest and anxiety clenched him.

Quietly Will finished his wine and considered how he was supposed to live with himself. The next few steps in his life were not in his hands, Hannibal held the leash.


	2. Standard Break From Life

Standard Break from Life

The overcast sky left Hannibal's office gloomy. Will knocked on the big door to be let into the familiar room. Hannibal sat in his usual seat, Will hesitated to sit down.

"What is on your mind Will?" Hannibal asked. Will blinked behind his glasses and thought.

"Not only am I being haunted by Garret Jacob Hobbs and you, Abigail has started wandering around my house," Will said feeling the heavy, sad presence of Abigail. She sat in the chair across from Hannibal, her eyes big and upset.

"How do we come to you Will?" Hannibal asked.

"You know about Hobbs. Abigail is sad, looking for an answer or something for what you did to her. You are something else," Will said looking down at Abigail.

"I'm not myself?" Hannibal asked, his voice actually giving rise to a slight inflection.

"You're a demon of a sort, some creature with antlers," Will said resting his hand on the back of the chair.

"Why do you say 'demon'?" Hannibal asked.

"Your presence comes with a terrible whirring noise, you're sunken in and all black," Will said imagining Hannibal growing antlers.

"A wendigo," Hannibal said nodding.

"What is that?" Will asked.

"A demon like you imagine. The person turns into one from eating human flesh." Hannibal answered.

"Cannibalism," Will said as Hannibal smiled. Will squinted at Hannibal. "Why?"

"That's a story for another time perhaps. We're here to help you now," Hannibal said. Will let the topic go for now, but it would keep gnawing at him.

"I've been thinking about Dr. Sutcliffe lately. I know why you killed him. What did he find in me Hannibal? What didn't you want me to know?" Will asked. Abigail had floated off towards upstairs and Will took a seat. If Hannibal had normal reactions, he would've sighed.

"Encephalitis," Hannibal said watching Will's eyes for a reaction.

"Why did you keep that from me? What exactly have you been doing to me?" Will was hurt.

"I was examining the effects it had on you. Personal interest and medical curiosity had me keep it from you so I could observe and study," Hannibal explained.

"So professionalism and ethics never- well I guess that makes sense now…" Will buried his head in his hands. He didn't know what to say for a while. He leaned back and slouched in the chair looking out the window. He wanted to be angry or at least scared. Instead he felt melancholy. There was no point in telling Hannibal what he could and could not do with a person.

Could he just peel away from Hannibal and start over somewhere else? Running away sounded appealing, but he wasn't sure he could really trust anyone now. And he would always have something to hide.

"I know that rationally I should keep away from you. I ought to take my dogs, cut ties and move to Florida or something. Instead I come to _you_. The one person who has lied and manipulated me so grossly it's a miracle I haven't hurt anyone," Will said to the window.

"Why do you come back to me Will?" Hannibal asked evenly.

"Moth to the flame? My own loss of control has me searching for a grasp, you were my anchor. Who better to turn to than the one man who likes to play God?" Will asked turning back to face Hannibal.

"I'm not the only person capable of being God, Will. I can show you that," Hannibal said.

"I don't want to _kill_ anyone Hannibal. I can't even get Hobbs out of my head," Will said coldly.

"We'll get him out," Hannibal said. He stood up and walked over to his liquor cabinet. He poured them each two fingers of whiskey, neat and handed one glass to Will. Will took it and sipped carefully. Even if he could detect the subtle nuances in the liquor, no traceable note of poison could be discerned on his palate. Hannibal would never get caught. The Copy Cat murders _had_ been gift wrapped for him personally.

"I'll make an appointment to get an MRI for you tomorrow. They'll find it and treat you," Hannibal said. He felt like he was trading one thing for another; he couldn't continually drug Will and expect to keep him as a friend. But Hannibal wasn't done experimenting. He had the power of his words which had proven to be enough on most minds. It would be beautiful to watch a clear headed and emotionally compromised Will turn to his much darker side.

"I want to go alone, I'll schedule it," Will said.

"Of course."

"Do you have any appointments after me?" Will asked sipping his whiskey.

"No, you're always the last one for the day. I like to keep my time open for you," Hannibal said. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

Will forcibly bit his lip from sarcasm.

"Vegetarian," Hannibal smiled.

Hannibal tied on an apron and began to work. Will sat at the island and watched the show in front of him. Long fingers grasped a hold of different knives, all knowing expertly how to slice and chop herbs and vegetables.

"What do you usually cook Will?" Hannibal asked.

"Fish or anything that goes in the microwave," Will said. Hannibal made a face as he slid basil off of his knife.

"I can teach you how to cook," Hannibal said.

"That might be pushing it," Will said adjusting his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"You buy the meat, I'll provide everything else," Hannibal said taking no offense.

"Hannibal…"

"I'll show you that you can trust me again."

"If you insist," Will said watching Hannibal's hands. He rested his chin against his knuckles and let his eyes follow Hannibal's tiny details. Hannibal took notice and a smirk played across his lips. He seemed to always find himself smiling around Will, feeling more satisfied than alone.

Pasta cooked in a stainless steel pot and vegetables lay strewn across various cutting boards. The aroma of herbs and the distinct smell of Hannibal's house filled the air. Will was wondering how he could be feeling warm and so at home in this kitchen. A kitchen were human organs had been turned into delicate, beautiful meals.

A pit knotted itself in Will's stomach. It rolled and settled. He recognized it as anxiety, but a particular brand he had recently had with Alana weeks before. She had witnessed his chimney torn apart and he worked up the nerve to kiss her. 'Unstable' she had said.

"What's on your mind Will?" Hannibal asked straining the pasta in the sink. His back was towards Will.

"If I had gotten treatment sooner I might've had something with Alana," Will mused.

"Do you still want that after you do get treatment?" Hannibal asked arranging the pasta on the plates.

"No. I can't be fully honest with her and she would recognize that in an instant," Will said looking up at Hannibal for a reaction. Nothing.

"If you could tell her everything, would anything else stop you?" Hannibal poured homemade tomato sauce atop the pasta.

"Yes, Alana deserves someone better than me," Will said shamefully.

"Better how?" Hannibal asked quickly mixing butter and crushed garlic in a small dish.

"I've never been the epitome of social grace and desirability," Will said. "I have hard time maintaining eye contact."

Hannibal uncovered some bread that had been cooling under a dish towel. As he took it out of the bread pan and began slicing it, he spoke.

"I find you desirable, even if you can't look me in the eye very long," Hannibal said now plating the vegetables. A slight blush spread across Will's cheeks. "Help me carry the silverware and glasses in please Will." Hannibal gathered the dinner plates.

Will followed Hannibal to the dining room and set the table. Will sat for his food and Hannibal disappeared for a bottle of wine. He poured the white wine upon returning and sat himself.

"Did you and Alana ever-?" Will asked.

"That's personal, Will. But no, we never did," Hannibal said. "Let me ask you, who do you think you deserve to be with if Alana is too good for you?"

"You," Will said without missing a beat. The anxiety ball in his stomach spread through his body with excitement. The back of his thighs developed goose bumps. He kept his eyes down to avoid facing his words in Hannibal's face.

Heat rolled in Hannibal's heart. His never-changing pulse of seventy-two skipped a beat for only a moment.

"How so?" Hannibal asked. He was not trying to embarrass Will, he just wanted the interesting answer.

"You understand me; you don't shrink away from what my mind does. Instead you find it beautiful and intriguing enough to manipulate. You would never be afraid of me," Will laughed, "and because I can understand you and unfathomably accept you, you deserve _me_." Will didn't know where his bravery surged from. Something inside felt comfortable around Hannibal.

"I like that very much," Hannibal said placing his hand on Will's.

Will smiled awkwardly. This feeling of attraction was so curiously different than how he had felt before with Alana or any other woman. He had found boys attractive before through physical and mental attributes, but seldom did he make a move. He'd had a few girlfriends in school, one very serious. Men were different creatures and at the very least the ones he found himself drawn to were straight. He avoided embarrassment and skipped making any advances, instead he asked girls out.

Strong personalities and intelligence always caught his eye. Now he sat adjacent from the most intriguing and striking man he'd ever come across. He just happened to be a monster.


	3. If Only She Knew

If Only She Knew

The treatment for Will's encephalitis helped him retain some sanity, his hallucinations halted and only remained in his imagination.

Alana came to visit Will. They played with the dogs in the field outside the house, but Will seemed sad to her.

"Anything on your mind?" she asked as they walked around.

"I miss Abigail," Will said, telling a half-truth.

"I do too. I think about how I could've helped her with Nick Boyle if she had just told me," Alana said, wind blowing her hair softly across her face. She pulled some pieces behind her ear. Will smiled at this, he felt bittersweet that he would not have to compromise her well structured life with his mess with Hannibal.

"She wanted to let Freddie write a book on her, the whole thing would've blown up in her face," Will said with irritation. They drew closer to the house.

"Speaking of Freddie, has she stopped pestering you?" Alana asked looking at her feet while she walked. Big dogs and little dogs shuffled around the pair.

"Only when I'm with you or Hannibal. I'd hate to be with her alone, I don't know if I could constrain myself," Will said stepping up to the front porch.

"She desperately wants to know why you left," Alana said following Will to the couch.

"I don't need another article on me," Will said grumpily.

"So is Hannibal still helping you since you've felt better?" she asked.

"Well since we were never doctor/patient status beyond my evaluation, I don't know if he's _still_ helping me, but I do talk with him frequently," he said to clarify.

"He does make a wonderful conversationalist. I haven't stopped by in a while," she said tilting her head to think on that.

"Do you want a beer?" Will asked standing up.

"Sure, but should you be drinking with your medication?"

"They're only antibiotics, not narcotics. And one beer, not shots of whiskey," Will joked. He heard her sigh quietly concerned and he grabbed the beers and came back.

"How's Jack?" Will asked. Alana took her beer and opened it.

"Not well. He's a wreck about Bella and he thinks he may have lost his chance at the Ripper again," she said. Will felt a pang of guilt.

"I just can't deal with all the death. He gets into my mind," Will said thinking of Hannibal. "He was furious with me when I told him I had to stop working with him. I felt like I betrayed him but with being sick and the nature of the work, I just couldn't anymore. He softened up a bit and told me he understood but I think he's hurt."

"I don't blame you. You have to take care of yourself, that's what I told him. I'm glad you pulled yourself in, I never thought you should go out in the field anyway," Alana said. Will smiled to himself. She was right and he kind of hated that he couldn't pass the FBI psychology evaluation. He was unstable before Hannibal got a hold of him.

"Oh, Will- I didn't, I'm sorry-" Alana realize what she said.

"No, you're fine. I know I'm not the definition of normal," Will said drinking his beer.

"Normal is overrated. We're all just different levels of weird," Alana said smiling. "And I like your level of weird."

Will laughed under his breath and made eye contact with her. Her eyes sparkled and she held his gaze for only a moment out of respect.

"So how have you been?" Will asked.

"Oh, I'm alright. A little lonely," she said.

"Haven't found 'the one' yet?" he joked.

"No. I've never really enjoyed going through the process of dating though. Guess that's my problem, huh?" she shook her head.

"It's funny how proximity and time spent with someone can turn into attraction," he said.

"And how it changes with age. I remember middle school and discovering then if you found someone appealing for their looks that often their personality doesn't match," she said thinking back to one of her first relationships and painful high school experiences.

"Looks are deceiving," Will agreed. "When did you stop dating?"

"Just after high school. I had a year and a half relationship with Colton Anderson only to find out senior year he cheated on me at homecoming. It was rather heartbreaking and dramatic for me really. In college I had no desire to put myself through that again. I focused on me and here we are," she said smiling and clinking glasses with Will as he thought about college.

"That's where you met Hannibal, right?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "The rumors about us were never true."

"He told me," Will said. Alana's eyes widened for a moment.

"He brought that up?" she asked with surprise.

"I asked," Will admitted. "I know, it was rude."

"No, it's okay. Why did you ask?"

"We were talking about if I wanted to be with you when I got better," Will said trying to hide behind his beer.

"Do you?"

"I don't deserve you."

"That's not true."

"It's okay Alana. I like having you as my friend. I don't want to ruin that. Besides, I'm still not completely 'stable,'" Will said.

"I like you as my friend too Will. I don't feel like there are enough good people like you around," she said. Will wanted to let her know he was not a good person and her friendship with Hannibal wasn't good either. The real heartbreak she would go through if Hannibal got caught…. He held in a wince.

"It wouldn't be good to have people like me. Empathy can be kind of ugly when applied to the wrong people," Will said finishing his beer.

"But you have the capacity to check yourself," she countered.

"Not always," Will muttered. Alana frowned.

"Maybe Hannibal should be your official psychiatrist," Alana said thoughtfully.

"I'd rather just talk to him," Will said defensively.

"I'm sorry. I just don't want to see you down on yourself," she apologized. They talked for hours more, a wonder they had no other obligations on a Friday afternoon. Around seven-thirty Alana left Will to eat dinner alone.

He sat by himself and ate a TV dinner with another beer. He found he was thinking about Hannibal and how repulsed he would be at the mush in front of him. He lost his appetite and left the plastic tray on the ground for his dogs.

To occupy his time before he went to sleep he worked on his lures. He thought of Abigail as he added a few tiny feathers. His life couldn't have been simple, not even normal drama. Instead he was saddled with a dead girl who he had taken guardianship of and a cannibal who was in love with him. Of course it had to be that twisted which made doing menial things feel like such a waste of time.

He decided he was going to take a few shots of whiskey to numb out his brain. He kept a bottle of Jameson near his tumbler on the coffee table. He turned the TV on and found a marathon of "How Its Made" and left it there. A couple hours later Will had fallen asleep.

_Will stands over the kitchen island in Hannibal's house. There is a large trout in front of him that needs to be cleaned and gutted. Behind him stands Hannibal, his arms around Will, his hands guiding him through opening the fish. _

"_I know how to do this Hannibal, why are you showing me?" Will asks, his head turns around to face Hannibal._

"_This one is a little different," Hannibal says pressing his hands a top Will's a little harder. The fillet knife in Will's hand sinks into the scales and through the fragile ribcage._

"_I've done this before," Will repeats.. But the trout is no longer a trout and Will is slicing through a nameless corpse. This transformation shocks him and he stumbles backwards into Hannibal._

"Have_ you done this before?" Hannibal asks, his hands on Will's shoulders like an encouraging father before a little league game._

"_No," Will swallows._

"_Let me show you," Hannibal whispers into Will's ear. They approach the cadaver and begin taking it apart._ _Blood spills out through the cuts made by the butcher knife, limbs are dismembered and Will feels his shoes soaked in blood, his whole chest and pants drenched in it. Hannibal is pressed up behind him, his hand guiding Will's over the knife. His face was over his shoulder, cheek by cheek and Will feels hot breath-_

Will's mind reproached at the vividness and he woke up gripping his pillow, sweat soaking the bed.


	4. Confessions of a Knife

**I am so sorry for taking like three weeks to post this! I wrote it 2 weeks ago, moved and then just got it edited tonight. I like to update every Tuesday so I will keep trying to do that now that I'm not worried about packing and such anymore. Thank you for support and comments!**

Confessions of a Knife

Will walked in to the special butcher to get the meat for the night's dinner. A bell tinkled overhead as he tried reading Hannibal's cursive print. He showed the butcher the parchment who recognized Hannibal's copperplate hand. While the butcher cut and weighed the meat he eyeballed Will trying to figure out why such a scruffy looking man was taking the place of Dr. Lecter.

Feeling judged Will left the butcher shop with his wrapped meat and drove to Hannibal's. Upon arriving Hannibal greeted Will and placed the meat in the refrigerator. They walked back to the office to talk.

Will began by telling Hannibal about his dream with a little less detail.

"Are you trying to figure out what it means?" Hannibal asked.

"No, I think I know what it means," Will replied exasperated.

"I won't have you slice up a cadaver Will," Hannibal said.

"I hope not," Will said shifting in his chair.

"How is your medicine working?" Hannibal asked.

"Like it's suppose to I guess," Will said.

"How are you sleeping?" Hannibal's legs were crossed, one leg bent over the knee. Will felt he was in too formal of a setting.

"Like hell. Especially with those dreams," he said.

"Are you drinking before sleep?"

"Sometimes."

"It would help the dreams if you didn't," Hannibal offered.

"I realize that. I don't need you to tell me what to do-" Will cut himself off. He quickly felt hot embarrassment from sounding like a teenager being nagged about curfew.

"I'm not forcing you to come here," Hannibal said.

"I know," Will said looking at the floor in front of Hannibal's feet. "I'm not your patient, am I?"

"I'm not charging you by the hour, so no," Hannibal said.

"I just hate feeling I have no control. Everyone sees me as fragile, as something to take care of or check-up on," Will fumed.

"On the contrary, I see you as very strong. You're just picking up pieces of a shattered being. Everyone changes and this change in you was marked as a sickness. You need time to come out of it and decide what you'll accept about yourself," Hannibal said.

"I have to decide if I accept you," Will said.

"You already have," Hannibal said looking at all of Will; his messy hair, glasses, olive green jacket and plaid shirt. The way he smelled and his demeanor. He wanted him closer than that damn chair.

"Teach me how to cook," Will said. Hannibal smiled.

Hannibal demonstrated for Will and let him practice. Side by side they prepared dinner while Hannibal went on about the origin of the dish. Aromas filled the kitchen and Will was brought back to once being part of a family and what that had been like.

He had been alone most of his life when his father died. Always feeling too much he finally shut down after that. Friends were hard to come by, romance almost impossible. Here was this real life villain standing next to him and Will felt alright. He smelled home.

After the sides were prepared and they waited for the meat to cook, they sat at the island together. Hannibal had opened the red wine early and they enjoyed it quietly for a moment. Will took notice of the way Hannibal smelled his wine before he drank it. He knew people did that all the time but he didn't know how to tell most wines apart.

"You are not only a serial killer, but you eat your victims. And here I find myself drawn to you. I can't decide which is worse," Will said swirling his wine around.

"I don't think there is anything you need to choose between. I think you understand and you feel like you need to conform to social norms. But Will, you've passed that point and you can't very well justify it to Alana or Jack. You don't need to be worried about why you are drawn to me. You've always had a dark passenger that has separated you," Hannibal said looking at Will. Will studied the counter and felt eyes on him. He looked up and met Hannibal's gaze. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. He licked the inside of his bottom lip, his tongue poked out for just a moment.

Hannibal leaned in and Will mimicked the movement. Hannibal's soft lips touched Will's chapped ones and Will pushed himself into the kiss with passion met from Hannibal. Hannibal stood up to help with the unsteadiness of the stool. Will felt a strong hand across his back and he slipped his fingers up through Hannibal's hair.

Hannibal felt Will's facial hair bristle against his clean shaven cheeks. It was a curious feeling because Hannibal had never kissed a man with a beard. He could smell the after shave and made a mental note to buy Will something much nicer, and quickly.

Will felt Hannibal's long fingers twist in his curls and grab his scalp. For a moment he felt fear at the passion Hannibal had in his hand. Hannibal sensed this and before he could decide to let go or grip harder, the oven timer beeped. He let go of Will and looked at his expression for a moment before pulling dinner out of the oven.

Will's face was hot, bright red and blushing. He adjusted his glasses for no real reason other than he was unsure of himself.

Wordlessly they gathered everything for the kitchen and Hannibal served Will dinner and poured the wine.

"You're embarrassed. Did I misread the situation?" Hannibal asked after his first bite. Will looked at his plate and pushed around some meat with his fork.

"No," he admitted.

"Then why are you only playing with your food?" Hannibal asked

"I could ask you the same," Will said. Hannibal laughed softly.

"I'm not. You're afraid I'll decide to eat you. I don't want to eat you Will. No, that would serve no purpose unless you decide to try and tell everyone our little secret. I'm not the only cannibal in the room," Hannibal pointed out.

"I don't know how reassuring that actually is," Will said.

"You'll have me at the end of my rope before that happens," Hannibal said. "I'm choosing to trust you. Hopefully you're not looking to disappoint me."

"I'm not, but is it hard to imagine how I'm conflicted with myself?" Will said finally eating.

"I learned at a much younger age to trust myself. And I had something similarly difficult to swallow," Hannibal said remembering a flash of Mischa.

Will wondered what in Hannibal's past had lead him down this road. He resisted the urge to ask again, he felt he would only get shut down. At some point they would need to be in a comfortable setting, no awkward tension between them. Will realized he was the one making everything awkward, Hannibal clearly felt the mutual attraction, he felt at ease in any situation because he controlled his emotions. Will envied the calm collect Hannibal possessed. Though he sensed this made him less human. Not in an animal way, but other worldly.

"How would you have me trust myself?" Will asked.

"Don't ignore your natural instincts," Hannibal said. "In time you'll come to realize good and evil are just words. If you want to be like God you should feel like him too."

They talked of Garret Jacob Hobbs and how Will felt killing him. Hannibal relished the conversation and encouraged Will to embrace that feeling of quiet power; Will felt a sense of overshadowing relief from that. They enjoyed each other's company, wine and food filled them heavy.

"How are you getting home Will?" Hannibal asked. They had left the dining room and sat in the dark den. It was sophisticated like the rest of the house, but the furniture was plusher and all very comfortable. Currently Will lounged in a dark red arm chair.

"Do you mind if I stay a couple more hours to sober up?" Will asked.

"Not at all," Hannibal replied. He lit a fire and settled himself into the love seat facing the fireplace.

"Do you have family Hannibal?" Will asked looking into the fire. It crackled as it grew.

"Once," Hannibal said. "I've all but lost most of them now."

"How?" Will asked.

"Murder," Hannibal replied. He felt eighteen again, only for an instant. Will turned to look at Hannibal. There were two things he could mean by that.

"And those who aren't dead?" Will asked.

"My aunt moved back to Japan when I was around eighteen. I haven't had contact from her since," Hannibal said remembering Lady Murasaki fondly.

Suddenly Will felt a strong tidal wave of curiosity crash onto the shore in his mind. It swept him up in the current and he would either drown or swim along it.

"Have you tried to contact her?" Will asked.

"I've wanted to, but it would only hurt her to hear from me," Hannibal said.

"Does she… know?" Will asked.

"Yes, but only to a certain extent," Hannibal said. "Now let me ask you, any family Will?"

"My father passed away but I still have my mother who lives with my brother," Will said a little bitter.

"Did you tell them about your illness?" Hannibal asked.

"No," Will said shifting his gaze back to the fire.

"Not very close?" Hannibal asked.

"Not really. When my dad died my mom developed clinical depression and my brother took her in because she began hoarding fishing equipment but refused to take care of herself," Will said.

"But you weren't included in this new bond between your mother and brother?" Hannibal asked. He watched Will's face become twisted with aggression.

"No, Jerry thought I was too fragile to be around mom because I wasn't _old_ enough to handle something that deep," Will stared fixedly at the dancing flames.

"How old were you?"

"Sixteen."

"What made him think you were 'too fragile'?"

"My empathy disorder. The only thing anyone is interested in about me," Will said sourly.

"It sounds like he was trying to protect you. You have such heightened emotions and your father just died, maybe he thought dealing with your mother's problems would've been too much," Hannibal said.

"You don't understand Jerry though. He could've cared less about how I felt. He took it as an opportunity to alienate me from my mother," Will said standing up and looking around the den. All the rich colors took him away for a moment.

"How much older is he?" Hannibal asked taking mental notes on Will's attitude towards his family.

"Seven years," Will said flatly.

"How is he towards you now?"

"He's bitter I spent so much time with my dad, we hardly talk. When we do he's digging into me however he can," Will said finding a curtained window and walking over to it.

"Does he tease you, hurt you or is he protective?" Hannibal asked.

"He's always loved to tease me, I take it with a grain of salt. I really don't think about him much though," Will said opening the curtain to peek at the outside world.

"What did you do with your father Will?" Hannibal asked noticing the shift.

"A lot of things. Fishing mostly, a lot of being 'the new kid' at school by following him to boatyards," Will said feeling a twinge of sad nostalgia.

"Did you often need for things? Clothes, food, friends?" Hannibal asked prying. Will felt his face flush for a moment.

"I would think _you_ never did," Will said turning around to Hannibal.

"There was a time when I did, it didn't last very long. It was the worst period in my life I have ever gone through. I imagine we had very different experiences though," Hannibal said remembering the smell of Mischa's hair and her little body wrapped in his arms.

"Was this before or after your family…?" Will asked. He dropped the curtain and walked back towards the chair.

"My parents were gone and all I had was my little sister, Mischa," Hannibal replied. He never talked about what had happened to him, only Lady Murasaki had known.

"How old were you?"

"I was eight and she was only two."

"Tell me what happened," Will said sitting back down.


	5. Little Sister

Little Sister

"My parents took us to our family cabin like they did every summer. It was supposed to be for a whole week and Mischa was very excited," Hannibal began to sink back to the recess of his mind palace. A dark space opened up and engulfed him.

A few beautiful days passed with the whole family outside, Mischa playing in the kiddie pool while Hannibal blew bubbles through her silver baby bracelet. Giggles seemed to echo in the empty forest.

A hundred miles away from any civilization, the Lecter family did not survive the random attack from five escaped convicts. The convicts had broken out of prison and had been scarcely subsisting on anything they could find. Hannibal's parents had no chance to defend themselves when the men burst into the cabin. Hannibal had been asleep in his room upstairs with his sister when he heard his mother scream his father's name.

He ran to the railing to see his father lying bleeding on the floor and his mother getting her skull bashed in. Hannibal screamed at them and ran down the stairs to stop them. The men were surprised and one knocked Hannibal on the back of his head as he cradled the crushed skull of his mother.

When he came to, he was upstairs again with Mischa. His wrists were bound, as well as his feet, with rope. Mischa had cloth binding her as well as gagging her little mouth. Hannibal scooted over to her and with his hands behind his back he untied her mouth gag and other ties.

"Shhh," he said as she began to cry. "Shhh."

Mischa sniffled and tried to undo Hannibal's knots. Her pudgy little fingers could not coordinate themselves to free her brother and she started to cry again. Hannibal tried to quiet her but she was too scared.

One of the men with piercing blue eyes came upstairs to the noise. His face was covered with remnants of food and his shirt was covered with blood and stains.

"Shut up," he growled at Mischa.

"Untie me, I can keep her quiet," Hannibal said.

"And you won't try anything stupid again? Because I will kill her if you do," Blue Eyes said.

"Untie me," Hannibal said. Mischa was bawling. Blue Eyes untied him and waited for Hannibal to hold Mischa. He scooped her up in his arms and kissed her head.

"Stay up here," Blue Eyes said and left the room.

"Ein Mannlein steht im Walde ganz still und stumm…"Hannibal began singing to her. Little tears streamed from her blue eyes.

"Momma? Poppa?" she whimpered.

"No, no," Hannibal said. Tears followed him too. He held her tight and tucked her in bed with him.

In the morning the escapees hadn't left but had burned his parents in the backyard. Three days passed as they raided the house and threw scraps to Hannibal and Mischa. Mischa had a fever and placing wet rags on her forehead wasn't bringing it down.

"She needs a doctor," Hannibal said. They all looked at him, he had been silent the whole time.

"She's not going to get one," one of the others said.

"Let me take her," Hannibal insisted. Mischa coughed and shivered in his arms.

"You expect us to let you take the car and leave us here to rot? I think not," he said.

"Come with us. Drop us off at the hospital and take the car," Hannibal said. Sweat was collecting on Mischa's forehead.

"We do not trust you. And there is no room for you," another said.

"Then why don't you leave us?" Hannibal asked.

"We might need you," he said. Hannibal didn't understand why until one week later. There was no food for anyone, the men had been eating any animal that had hopped or flown by.

All of them were ravished and deranged, Hannibal heard them, whispering feverishly downstairs. Mischa was fading, Hannibal tried to comfort her. But in the dark of the night Mischa was pulled from Hannibal's arms.

"Anniba!" she shouted full of fear. Her cry pierced the dense fog clouding Hannibal and he began thrashing at anyone blocking him from his little sister. He broke his arm in the process and the pain blacked him out.

In his delirium Hannibal woke up with a spoon in his mouth. The others were laughing. He ate whatever they fed him.

Only an hour later he was tied up by the neck, hands and feet. The men set the house on fire and Hannibal woke up to the flames burning hot under the floor below. He escaped the cloth bonds on his hands and feet using his teeth, The rope noose around his neck was too intricate for him to undo, but he unlaced the knot tying him to the wall.

Escaping out the window using the wrought iron lattice his mother set up, he found his way through the forest a few miles.

A search and rescue team heading towards the Lecter's cabin found Hannibal. Rope around his neck.

In the present, Hannibal watched Will. The mood was terribly sober. Will felt devastated and full of aching pain for the man adjacent from him.

"Hannibal…" Will said. Hannibal sucked his lips in and let his tongue go over the bottom lip. He closed his eyes briefly. A sigh escaped. Only once had he relieved that history, it drained him to do it. His mind became fire and his heart tightened to think about Mischa. Will recognized this and understood unequivocally what it meant for Hannibal to pour that out of him.

"Were they your first kills?" Will asked, hoping to hear some small justice. He was fully rooting for Hannibal, he wanted to hear these men had died and by Hannibal's hands.

"No, I severed the head of the local butcher when I moved in with my aunt," Hannibal gave a small smile remembering those days. Will's emotions rolled around in him, confused.

"How old were you?" Will asked.

"Eighteen," Hannibal said. He stood up to pour more liquor.

"I shouldn't have any more. I have to drive," Will said reluctantly.

"Of course," Hannibal said giving himself a night cap. Will got out of the chair awkwardly and walked over to Hannibal.

"Did I scare you?" Hannibal asked lowering his head barely, a microscopic smile across his lips. He walked Will to the front door and reached for the side of Will's head. He caressed his ear and leaned down slightly to kiss him.

"Good night Will," Hannibal said.


	6. Blood On His Hands

Blood On His Hands

Knowing what happened to Hannibal only convoluted Will's idea of him more. Mischa had an incredible impact on Hannibal and Will could only assume those men had not survived Hannibal when he was old enough to exact his revenge. This did not explain or justify his current actions however. There was something borne into Hannibal that made murder and cannibalism the only rational decision. Everyone fantasizes about murder, about revenge. The reality is starkly different. Given the options under the law, justice can be served in court for most. Not for Hannibal.

But what had made Will agree to temporary cannibalism? His love. It was not his first choice but he had made the choice none the less. At this point in his life, Will knew Hannibal was in control of himself. He did not need or want, emotions only overruled logical decisions if Hannibal decided to let them.

Will sat at this desk, curls falling softly over his forehead as he worked on a fishing lure. He tried to focus his mind in on the intricacies of the lure but he found himself worrying about his relationship with Hannibal.

They were such strikingly different creatures. Will wondered how he could manage to not lose himself to the lifestyle Hannibal led. He imagined intimate dinners, shared in the dining room where people were frequently served. Hannibal would not stop killing and consuming for him. Will found himself thinking too far in the future. But he had no where else to turn, he truly couldn't be with anyone else besides Hannibal. They had an undeniable connection, so forged as it was by saving Abigail and consuming her.

A lump came up in Will's throat, hard and unmovable. He bit back tears welling in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Abigail stood faintly behind him, translucent and sorrowful. Bitter pain started to fester in Will and he stood up from his desk to get away from it.

In the kitchen he opened the fridge for a beer and out of the corner of his eye Abigail lay dying on the floor, blood seeping out of her neck. Will closed the fridge to go to her and her father stood in the way. He said nothing, only looked through Will, hollow. Will's heart clenched, but he was so used to the image he did not flinch.

"Please save me dad, it's not too late," Abigail spit blood and her body convulsed. Will moved passed Garret who stepped out of the way. He knelt down to her.

"Dad," she whispered. Will held her neck like he had the first time.

"Why didn't you save me?" she cried.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Abigail. I can't take it back, I can't make you alive again," Will imagined the blood through his fingers, warm and unstoppable.

"I didn't ask for this," she whispered. From behind Will, Winston came up to his master on his knees and licked his face once. The Hobbs family vanished. Will sat down and took Winston into his arms.

"How do I make it go away?" he asked burying his face into the coarse fur. Will's other dogs slowly wandered into the kitchen hoping for treats, only to give sympathy instead.

Will pet and hugged all his dogs love, he felt his spirit lift. This had to stop. But only Hannibal could help. Will felt trapped. He pulled himself off the floor and walked to his bed to lie down.

The mattress was firm and old, a thin blanket was wadded up on the side of the bed and a lumpy pillow sat under Will's head. Will tried to clear his mind for a few minutes and then called Hannibal.

"Hello?" Hannibal answered.

"Hi," Will said awkwardly.

"Is everything alright Will?" Hannibal asked.

"No," Will said.

"What's the matter?"

"Abigail. You, me. Us," Will said sitting up and running his hand hard over his forehead and through his scalp.

"Do you want to come over?" Hannibal asked. Will paused. Human company might be good for him, but Hannibal was half of the problem.

"I… I don't think so," Will decided. His eye contact wouldn't be strong today. " I feel broken and haunted without Abigail. We were supposed to protect her. She's had three failed father figures. She never asked for that, she didn't deserve that."

"No, she didn't ask for that. Will you didn't fail her, She engineered her own fate," Hannibal said.

"_You_ engineered it Hannibal, not her," Will said defensively.

"I couldn't stop what she had done. I wish I could bring her back to you. Would you have had all of us in prison?" Hannibal asked.

"You set the whole thing in motion, you called the house," Will said getting heated.

"I may have set that in motion, but it doesn't change what Garrett Jacob Hobbs was doing on his own with his daughter," Hannibal countered. "All her subsequent actions were of her own accord."

"She trusted you and you got into her mind," Will said.

"I never told her to kill anyone. I didn't make her do anything. I only helped her and tried to protect her after Nick Boyle died," Hannibal said. Will hated when Hannibal was right, he became silent for a few moments.

"You're allowed to mourn her Will. For what her life was and what it could have been," Hannibal said.

"She's dying in my kitchen all over again," Will said. "She wanted me to save her."

"You did once. That was enough," Hannibal said. Will choked back the emotion in his voice and composed himself.

"Help me make her go away," Will said.

"Do you think Mischa has ever left me?" Hannibal asked. Silence again from Will while the somber thought sunk in.

"Do you see her like I see Abigail?" Will asked.

"In dreams just as terrible."

"You killed the men who ate your sister. Am I supposed to kill us?" Will asked, thinking out loud.

"No, that logic would have me committing suicide. It won't bring her back anymore than killing those men brought Mischa back to me. The dreams stopped when my aunt helped me. You need to channel your thoughts to something productive or creative. Don't let her consume _you_. Make a place for her in your mind Will. Build a shrine and pray, but you are free and you get to keep living," Hannibal said, trying to be encouraging with only words to give because Will wasn't within arms reach.

"Do you kill to fill that void?" Will asked. He decided Abigail needed a safe place in his brain. He would tuck her in and keep her protected there.

"No. I exacted my revenge and I'm not compelled to pursue slaughter in Mischa's name. I kill for pleasure," Hannibal replied. It was exhilarating to be open with Will. It seemed dangerous to say these things aloud, but Hannibal trusted Will enough to know their words would stay between them. Will felt his body shiver and shudder. What happened to Abigail was not pleasure, he knew that. He felt sick anyway.

"Why didn't you just…" Will was searching for a different fate for Abigail.

"We could've left," Will choked up for just a second.

"You would've just fed your dogs and written Alana a letter to disappear?" Hannibal asked. His heart sunk like in quicksand.

"I… I don't know. I was a father, you took that away from me. I want her back. Not bleeding all over my kitchen floor," Will said grimacing. Abigail came into the room and sat at the edge of the bed.

"I'm so sorry Will," Hannibal was biting the inside of his bottom lip. Would running away really have been any kind of life for them? He imagined Europe with this murder family. Abigail playing in the ocean while he and Will laid in beach chairs on the sand of Nice. Abigail tanning, the scar on her neck white to remind her. Could she have made friends, had a partner, gone to college, pursued a career and family?

Hannibal felt genuinely sorry. He had only himself to blame. Had he misjudged Will? Maybe if he let Will be lucid, his feelings would've surfaced sooner. At the time it was impossible to predict what Will would've said or done in this situation.

"I'm sorry too," Will said. Tears spilled quietly out of his eyes. He suppressed verbal expressions of pain. Hannibal stayed on the line, reflective in thought, trying not to lament his decision. He had wanted to save Abigail, but she didn't let him. What he was sorry about was hurting Will so deeply.

Hannibal knew he had to apologize in a much greater way. He didn't know if Will would forgive him.


	7. Symphony for Sympathy

One of the only things Hannibal felt he could do to apologize was to help Will through the grieving process and exorcize his hauntings. He had ceased using light therapy on Will as well administering any more drugs. He contemplated asking Will to drink the same mushroom tea he had made Abigail. Would Will drink it?

Hannibal wandered into his office with a mug of freshly brewed French roast. He set the steaming cup down and opened his laptop to read the news. A charity symphony was taking place at seven o'clock that night. It was a fundraiser for orphaned children. Smiling to himself, Hannibal saw he could purchase tickets at the opera house and decided he would buy a pair for him and Will.

In other news, Freddie Lounds wasn't giving up on Will Graham. Her "article" was pure gossip on the ex-FBI special agent. She speculated about Will's absence from the Ripper case and what that might mean. She dug up dirt on any of his past indiscretions and what she could find on his parents and brother. None of it came across fair and made Will out to be unstable and possibly mad enough to aid the Ripper in murder by not stopping him when fully capable. She even suggested he had something to do with Abigail Hobb's disappearance.

Hannibal imagined how he would get rid of her.

After Hannibal finished his coffee he got dressed to go buy the tickets. He drove to the opera house and walked into the ground lobby. The ticket clerk in the box office recognized Hannibal and lit up. She lifted her head from her text book and grinned at him. She was around sixteen, the youngest employee, but her older sister held the title of supervisor and got her the job.

"Hi Dr. Lecter!" she beamed.

"Good morning Kaitlyn," Hannibal said to the wavy headed blonde.

"How are you?" she asked smiling.

"Very good. How are you?"

"I'm great, always happy to see you!"

"Do you still have tickets for tonight's symphony?"

"Yeah, we have a few but I hate to tell you they kind of suck," she sighed. She hated disappointing him. "Oh! You know we do have a few VIP tickets that our sponsors aren't using, but they are sorta pricy," she suggested.

"That would be wonderful if you could Kaitlyn," Hannibal said noticing her black pearl earrings.

"Let me call my sister to go get them," Kaitlyn said using the phone at her desk.

"Sophie, hey Dr. Lecter wants to buy VIP tickets for tonight," she said. She covered the receiver. "Oh, how many Dr. Lecter?"

"Two."

"He needs two… okay, thanks!" Kaitlyn hung up. "She'll be right up. Who's the lucky date? You usually go solo. If I'm not being too bold."

Hannibal thought it was a bit nosey, but he knew she meant no ill-will. She wasn't a gossip, she just found him interesting.

"My friend Will," Hannibal said.

"Oh cool. I'm sure you'll love it. I went once when I was little," Kaitlyn said. Sophie came up with the tickets and Kaitlyn rang up his total. Hannibal gave her the money and gladly placed the tickets in his jacket.

"See you tonight," Kaitlyn said.

At home Hannibal took to his drawings until his first appointment came at eleven. He gave himself short days on Friday and his last appointment left at four-thirty.

Hannibal called Will shortly after only to be left at an answering machine. He didn't leave a message, Will had caller ID. Instead he began to wonder if Will owned a nice enough suit and lamented that he had not gone shopping for new cologne for him.

Promptly Will called back.

"Sorry, I was in class. You called?" he asked.

"Yes. What are you doing tonight?" Hannibal asked.

"Oh. Uhm, nothing why?" Will felt nervousness in his stomach.

"I have tickets for a symphony tonight and I would enjoy the pleasure of your company," Hannibal said imagining Will walking to his car across the campus. In fact, Will's hair was blowing in his face and his glasses were slipping down his nose as he tried to balance folders, books and his phone while unlocking his car.

"Are you asking me out on a date Hannibal?" Will asked.

"I would say 'just as friends' but I think we can be adult enough to recognize the situation for what it is," Hannibal said smirking. He heard Will climb into his car and toss his school things on the passenger seat.

"What time?" Will asked.

"I'll pick you up in an hour," Hannibal said. They got off the phone and Hannibal went to his master bathroom to fix himself up. He changed from one of his three piece suits into a tuxedo and knew almost immediately Will wouldn't have one. He gave an internal sigh, but he had to let it go, nothing could be done about it tonight.

He felt rather pleased with himself as he drove to Will's. He did not normally get to sincerely enjoy anything too intimate with another person. He was always content on his own, but in this instance he was excited about the prospect of having Will with him.

Carefully Hannibal pulled up into Will's driveway, his dogs were out and running around. Will stepped outside in a black suit with a slimming black tie. He whistled at his dogs to come inside and they all gathered around his legs. He shooed them inside and walked to Hannibal's car.

Will climbed in and slid across the leather seat. Dog fur clung all over him. The heat in the car caused some of the fur to float off Will and onto Hannibal.

"Hello Will," Hannibal said. "Do you need a lint roller?"

"The first thing you do when I get in your car is insult me? Rude Hannibal," Will laughed.

"Will, you are covered in dog hair," Hannibal said eyeballing him.

"I don't have one. We can stop at a pharmacy and get one," Will said light heartedly.

"Reach in the glove box," Hannibal said. He had turned the car around to head to the opera house. Will began to tidy himself up with the lint roller.

Upon arriving they parked and Will got out to try and get the excess hair off his back.

"May I?" Hannibal asked watching Will miss whole patches.

"Are you embarrassed?" Will asked handing over the lint roller.

"Please Will," Hannibal said getting his back and legs. When he was sufficiently cleaned up, they went inside. Kaitlyn switched from being in the box office to taking ticket stubs. She seemed quite happy to be dressed up for the event.

"Good evening Kaitlyn," Hannibal smiled.

"Good evening Dr. Lecter, Will," she grinned remembering his name. "Enjoy your seats!"

"How does she know who I am?" Will whispered into Hannibal's ear as they walked down the aisle.

"I told her you were coming with me," Hannibal said. He took Will's hand in his as they found their seats. Will found himself blushing at Hannibal's public display of affection and kept their hands low. They sat just a couple of seats in and six rows back.

Low chatter filled the theatre as guests filed in and Will wondered if he would have to be sociable with anyone that might know Hannibal.

A blonde man in a fur coat took and a stunning woman in a red dress and doe face sat next to them. The man next to Will looked over him and gave him a big grin.

"I'm Mason. Mason Verger," he held out his hand to Will and removed his white leather gloves. Will hesitated and Hannibal took over, his head cocked.

"Oh," Will said annoyed. He kept his head down, his eyes averted to his knees.

"Not very friendly are you?" Mason said putting his hand down. The woman next to him looked unfazed as she stared ahead to the stage.

"Please excuse Will, he's not feeling well. Pleasure to meet you Mason, I'm Hannibal Lecter," Hannibal said extending his hand over Will. Mason shook it.

"And who is the beauty beside you?" Hannibal asked.

"Oh, her? That's Margot. She's my twin sister," Mason said turning from Hannibal to Margot. He pinched her cheek roughly.

"Hello," she said. Her voice was deep but feminine. Both Will and Hannibal felt uncomfortable at Mason's pinch.

"Did you know _I'm_ the largest benefactor to this charity?" Mason ignored Margot. "I started donating after Papa died and left me and Margot orphans."

Will rolled his eyes over to Hannibal incredulously. Hannibal wanted to laugh at Will but quietly acknowledged him with his eyes instead.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Donating to help orphaned children must make you feel good," Hannibal said placating this strange man.

"Not really. It's mostly to look good. Hey, now how did you get these seats anyway? I was expecting Ashton and her husband Louis, you aren't them," Mason laughed.

"I bought them," Hannibal said giving Mason a quick smile. Will still had his entire head turned away.

"Oh-ho-ho, you are _rich_," Mason said grinning. He elbowed Margot. "You should dump Judy and get with this guy. He could take care of you almost as well as I can, sister."

Margot gave a tight lipped smile to her brother. Will wanted to defend her but didn't feel comfortable butting in.

The orchestra warmed up and everyone quieted down. Mason put his hands roughly on the base of Margot's head and yanked it towards his ear. He whispered something sharp and let her go with a little push. She fixed a bobby-pin in her hair and sank slightly in her seat. Only ten minutes in and Mason leaned into Will's ear.

"You didn't want to come here, did you? That suit is old, you would have a tuxedo if you did this often. He's not a very good sugar-daddy, is he?" Mason said. Before Will could respond through gritted teeth, Hannibal put a firm hand on Will's thigh. Will turned to Hannibal sharply and Hannibal turned to the amused Mason.

"You should look into swallowing your tongue Mason," Hannibal said staring him down. Mason giggled and Margot turned to him. She quietly whispered in his hear. His face calmed.

"For Margot," Mason said to no-one in particular.

The performance went on with only a few interruptions by Mason talking to Margot. Hannibal's hand never left Will's thigh.

Will wasn't sure how he felt about Hannibal's hand resting there. It seemed like a possessive move over a protective one. It especially made him uncomfortable to have this happen in public. However he made no attempt to remove Hannibal's hand. Slowly through the performance it felt like a security blanket, the grip loosened. Towards the end Hannibal softly moved his thumb across Will's leg and only when he clapped did he finally remove it.

Mason and Margot left quickly and Will let out an audible sigh. He muttered under his breath.

"What did you say?" Hannibal asked wondering if he heard correctly.

"If I ever felt like killing somebody," Will said pulling at his shirt collar.

"Well…" Hannibal smirked.

"No," Will said sternly. They began walking to the dining hall that had been prepared for the orchestra and donators.

"Are we supposed to…?" Will trailed off.

"It came with the tickets," Hannibal said. Will followed him reluctantly. Socializing with Mason Verger was enough to last him a few weeks.

_Hor d'oeuvres were served across long tables draped with white fabric. A few tasteful paintings hung on the wall and flowers filled up empty spaces. The patrons mingled with each other, pleased with themselves for donating. The musicians mostly talked amongst themselves. _

_Hannibal and Will walked over to the hor d'oeuvres. Will ate a few stuffed mushrooms in peace until Margot Verger approached Hannibal._

_"Hello," she said to both of them._

_"Hello Ms. Verger," Hannibal said. Her long ponytail lay against her strapless shoulder. She had small pear earrings and red lipstick that made her bright teeth stand out._

_"You said your name is Hannibal Lecter. __The __Doctor Lecter I presume?" she asked._

_"Yes," Hannibal said._

_"Dr., I need help. Do you have a card?" Margot asked seriously. Hannibal pulled out a card and with two fingers handed it to Margot._

_"Thank you," she mouthed and turned to leave. She almost made it to the door when her brother caught her elbow. Will watched as he didn't let go and then swiveled his head to lock eyes with Will. Will turned away to Hannibal._

_"He spotted us, let's leave," Will said unable to handle __more__ Mason._

_"Mr. Lecter, oh don't leave yet. Here," Mason said coming closer. "Here, look. I suppose I should apologize. Margot says I need to __behave__ when we're in public." Mason stuck his hand out._

_"Apology accepted," Hannibal said shaking Mason's hand._

_"Now I don't know if I caught your name," Mason said looking to Will. Will tilted his head up but kept his eyes averted._

_"Will," he said._

_"Will. Well, __Will__, would you and Mr. Lecter give me the delight of coming to dinner next Friday? I have to throw this annual party for the company, only higher-ups of course. Its rather boring to be honest, but you two would be so fun to have around," Mason said adjusting his glasses._

_Will did not want to go, not in the very least. Though… Margot seemed to be in trouble, probably with Mason. Maybe their presence could spare her a few hours._

_"Okay," Will said. Hannibal looked at him with mild surprise._

_"What's your number Will? I'll call and get all your details later," Mason said grabbing a napkin and pulling an ink pen out of his coat pocket. Will quickly scribbled on it._

_"Goodie. We're off now, bye-bye," Mason said giving a wave with just his fingers bending up and down. Once out of the building, Hannibal turned to Will._

_"Why do you want to go to Mason's diner party?" Hannibal asked._

_"Margot," Will said. "Hannibal can we leave?"_

_Hannibal was disappointed with Mason monopolizing the evening, but decided he could plan something better next time._


End file.
